


Not Again

by Mistress_Kalamity



Series: My Heart's To Blame [14]
Category: Tokio Hotel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Epilepsy, M/M, Medical Emergency, Seizure, Torg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-21
Updated: 2017-02-21
Packaged: 2018-09-26 02:44:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9858491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistress_Kalamity/pseuds/Mistress_Kalamity
Summary: Georg looks at his behaviors and all he can say is...not again.





	

I usually am really good with these things. I can sense when something's wrong. This time I did not have a fine tuned six sense. The day's have all started to melt into one another. They just fused together tightly. Neither Tom nor I could tell if it was a Sunday or a Friday. Milo also started to act out, I blame puberty. There is just too many triggers and too many opportunities for things to go wrong. Tom could forget if he took his medication or if he visited the doctor's office. The blurred lines of the days on the calendar made this whole month seem off. Bill shared in my stress and he kept a watchful eye on his brother. He didn't like how calm things were. Neither did I. Besides the occasional absence, Tom has been chipper. He practically floats around the house; cleaning and shit. I stay focused on the catalog in my hands, trying to pick out a nice tile for our inground pool. It's almost finished and we planned to throw a pool party as soon as it's filled. 

I hear Tom doing dishes in the kitchen and singing along to some Samy Deluxe song. He still loves him even after all these years. Go figure. I watch Sasha play with Bill's puppy, Pumba, on the carpeted floor, his owner disappeared outside to smoke. "I don't care young lady, you are not going to a party!" I hear Tom shout from the kitchen. Great. Here comes Milo yet again, demanding something from her father that she knows he is not going to approve of. First it was this Tyler Gautier kid and now a party. Why did my baby girl want to grow up so fast? It's not like I'm saying she should stay little forever, but what is the rush to be tortured by adulthood? I migrate into the kitchen and see a fuming Milo and a annoyed Tom at a stand off. Tom's arms are crossed and he's giving her the same look he gives his twin when he asks for something ridiculous like gold studded platforms. "It's not fair! Why can't I go to a high school party?"

"Because I said so! You don't even know what happens at those parties and on top of that, you are still grounded for that stunt you pulled at rehearsal."

"Stunt?! Daddy, I was kissing my boyfriend! I don't see the big deal!"

"And that's the problem. You don't 'see the big deal’. The 'big deal', as you put it, is that you are too young for boyfriends and parties."

"Ugh?! It's not fair, you were partying at 15! Why can't I?!"

"When I went to parties, people were respectful and they were all for the sake of the band."

"What about the non-band parties?" Milo snorts.

"I was an idiot teenager and I didn't go alone. I also wasn't grounded for having an uninvited guest at my father's band rehearsal."

"Tyler isn't using me, daddy."

"You don't know that. Now this discussion is over, go to your room and don't make me repeat myself."

"Ugh! It's not fair! Ever since you got better you've been nothing but mean to me!" She shouts. Tom turns to his daughter ignoring the dishes that still needed cleaning. He had not been appreciating this attitude she had been sporting. He had been trying to be patient with her but his patience is slowly wearing thin. He still hadn't talked to her about what happened with that attacker and she refuses to talk about it, claiming she moved on. Uncle B helped her. Tom didn't trust his brother's tactics because he claimed he moved on once and two years later he was standing on the edge of his hillside property, beyond the gate on the verge of jumping until Gustav talked him into climbing back over to safety. 

Milo only started to act more and more like her uncle when he was her age and it was starting to scare Tom. He didn't want his daughter to go through that inner darkness too. Bill was bad enough for him, he couldn't take his child too. His heart would shatter. He saw this older boy she had been seeing as just a catalyst to her spiral. He's a senior for one, and two he hung out with the same crowd he did when he was younger than that boy is now. He knows exactly what they do and he's not letting his daughter be exposed to that. "I am not being mean. I am looking after you as a father should. Now...I said no and I mean no. Why are you going back and forth with me on this?!"

"Because it isn't fair! I can't do anything anymore! It's almost like you're trying to trap me in this house!" Like he hasn't heard that one before. Shit, he said those same words to his own mother once. He walks over to his daughter, finally understanding what his mother was talking about when she said protecting your child can hurt you at lot more than you think. The look of anger and betrayal is prevalent on her face, her arms are tight at her sides and the teens fists are clenched tight. Her mouth is in a tight frown. She is nearly fuming. Tom puts his hands on her shoulders and meets her eyes, pushing up his glasses so she can really see his eyes. Milo only sees the exhaustion in her father's gaze and it angers her even more. She couldn't even fully express all her rage because she knows it could make him sick. 

"Sweetheart, listen to me, I don't want to prevent you from doing anything. I understand how hard it can be to understand that. Understand that everything that I do is to ensure your safety," Tom smiles.

"Oh so now you care about my safety? Why didn't you care when you drove me to school and had a fucking seizure, dad?"

"Okay, I've been silent long enough! Miliani, apologize to your father."

"Why because I am honest with him for once? You were thinking it too! How dare you stand here and say you care about my safety when you so clearly didn't that day you came to pick me up?" Tom's hands come up off his daughter's shoulders and he pulls his glasses down onto his face.

"Go to your room, Milo. I don't want to see your face or hear you voice until dinner. If I so much as hear a peep from you, I will show you just how angry I am with you right now. Another thing, if you think about running away or sneaking out, don't. There will be hell if I find out that you did or...in this case, tried to," Tom growls. Milo saw something new behind his eyes just now and it was pure rage. Georg had to stand next to his husband because he hadn't seen that look in a long time. Whenever his pride ended up on the line during an argument, Tom gets even more aggressive. It must've taken all of Tom's composure to not knock the girl flying across that kitchen. He clears his throat as he glares at her, making the girl move faster. 

"Are you alright?" Tom nods and turns back to the dishes. He didn't want to talk about it. He just wanted to resume dishes. He was enraged. He just couldn't believe she'd bring that up like that didn't shoot holes into his heart. She knew that would hurt and that's why she said it. Just like Bill would. God, how is this girl just like her uncle yet they aren't blood related? She spends too much time with him. 

"Georg, Milo and Bill aren't allowed to be around each other for awhile. Also, let's find someone else to babysit."

"Tom, Bill lives with us. So does your mother, remember?" Tom drops the plates into the sink and dries his hands on the towel. "What's wrong?"

"Do you smell that?"

"Yeah, Bill's smoking....again."

"Yeah with Milo," Tom accuses.

"No, he wouldn't," Georg snorts. Or would he? Both parents storm upstairs, smelling the weed as it trails down the stairs into the lower level of the house. Ever since Bill picked up the habit in Denver, CO when a fan gave him a couple pre rolls and some pop brownies, he had been smoking on a regular basis, hence his more relaxed nature. Tom pulls open his brother's room door, being hit with the smell of pot. Georg doesn't see Milo anywhere so he's happy for that but Tom's still angry.

"Dude, what the hell? You ruined my box," Bill scoffs.

"Have you been smoking that shit with Milo?"

"God no! Tom, have some faith in me! I am not her older brother and I know that!"

"Honestly, I don't like the way you've been with Milo. She's starting to pick up some of your tendencies and it's only the bad ones," Tom groans.

"Seriously? Oh, I'm sorry. I had no idea. I'll tell her to back off for a while," Bill apologizes, taking a pull from his blunt. "Now, uh can you close the door? Mom will murder me if she knew I was still smoking."

"Little late for that one. The entire lower level smells like it."

"Shit! For real! I'll stand on the balcony then." He gets up and opens the sliding door and he stands right on the balcony. Tom could always count on his twin being understanding. As long as it was Tom talking to him of course.  
*****  
The house gets quiet until dinner. I think we all sat down and even though the smells coming off the meal Simone, Bill and Tom put together were intoxicating, there was still a feeling of tension in the room. Between the glares that Tom and Milo were exchanging and the looks that Simone was shooting at her son, the tension is quite literally a being in the room. I cut into my lasagna and tried to just draw my focus to Tom. He is honestly still furious about what happened between him and his oldest daughter. Sasha plays in her mashed potatoes, completely oblivious to what's happening around her. She's constantly calling Bill's name and he's giving attention to the baby. "Stop blowing your drug ridden breath into that baby's face," Simone scolds.

"Oh for shit sake, mom. I am not blowing anything into her face besides carbon dioxide."

"Bill, you are 27 years old and it's about damn time you started acting like it."

"I do act like it. I stepped up to the plate and helped my brother didn't I? I helped my niece didn't I?"

"Actually Bill, I don't know if what you did was more helping or harming," Tom pipes up.

"Uncle B don't make me do anything, I make my own decisions," Milo spits.

"Milo, I thought I said I didn't want to hear a peep from you."

"You said until dinner and it's dinner," she retorts. I had to hold in a chuckle for that one. That was definitely a Bill move. Tom's daughter, our daughter is just like his brother. Oh this is a good one. All those years making Simone's life a living hell and Tom just watched and now he's getting his due. I sip my wine and put the glass down. I have to be a parent now, no more giggling to myself because my 15 year old is catching her father slipping. 

"Milo, be respectful, that's your father," I scold. She groans and returns to eating her food. I watch as Bill wipes a messy Sasha's face and he giggles when the toddler kisses his cheek. He's clearly still high but not to a degree where he couldn't function. 

"Whatever, I just wanted to go to a party," Milo grumbles.

"And I said no. Now, stop bringing it up, young lady or you'll be in a lot more trouble than you are right now."

"It's not fucking fair!" she curses. Everyone stops and looks at her. As I am about to open my mouth to say something, Tom reaches across the table and slaps her. Milo gets up from the table in a rage and storms up to her room I guess. Tom is right behind her, telling her to get her ass right back to to that table and finish her dinner. I know I have to get up now because Tom will scream himself into a seizure. I leave Bill, Simone and a now crying Sasha at the table and follow the angry pair up the stairs. The argument spills out into Milo's room. "Who the fuck do you think you are hitting me?!"

"Miliani, who do you think you're talking to?! I am you goddamn father and you are going to respect me!" I get fully inside and see Milo is standing with her arms crossed glaring at her father and Tom is standing with his arms at his sides, fists clenched. 

"Since when were you my father?! My father was a junkie who died, along with my mother! You are just some creep who adopted me! If anything, you are just as bad as the guy who kidnapped me!"

"Milo, don't say that to your father! You have crossed the line, young lady," I pipe up. 

"Crossed the line?! He slapped me at the table. Who crossed lines here?!"

"I don't care if he punched you into next week. You will never compare the man who took you in and took care of your ungrateful ass to the man who stole you from us and took your innocence ever again, am I understood?" Milo remains silent glaring at her other father. He used to be her pop and Tom her daddy but recent changes in her personality changed that. Tom was honestly shocked when she announced she quit the basketball team. "Miliani, am I understood?"

"No! He is just as bad. The only difference is he gets his thrills from locking me up!"

"Miliani, I do not derive pleasure from locking you up! I am you father and everything I do is so you can....so you can....uh...fuck," he stutters. I look up at my husband as his brain misfires faster than I can move. I reach him once his body hits the floor. All I needed was a moment more and I could've caught him. The back of his head collides with the corner of her desk, causing a cut to his scalp, a deep one as there's blood everywhere. 

"Shit! Milo, call for paramedics and hurry." I get him onto his side as the convulsions start. His arms are tight against his body and they jerk rhythmically against his chest. Tom’s tonic clonic seizures definitely cause me to be more nervous than usual. He’s been having more of them since his surgery. I don’t know if that’s an after effect but with the way things have been going, I am afraid for my husband’s life. I can’t stand the spiral that our family seems to get warped into. If I’m not struggling with Tom’s epilepsy, I have to worry about my daughter coming in at 3 in the morning with her friend, Anya. I was shocked that Anya even went to parties seeing as she has epilepsy too. Milo abandoned almost all her sports friends and it….I am scared.

I can’t take this happening again. He can’t be hospitalized for another head injury. I can’t deal with this again. No more brain surgeries. No more hospitals. Just one normal fucking day. Is that too much to ask for? I text Mike while they have Tom in the emergency room. Making sure that the damage wasn’t too extensive. I look down at the digital print on my phone. The German words that are going to put me in a shit storm if the wrong person finds out. I just needed to do this. I needed this information. For myself….and for Tom. I hold my husband’s hand while we ride to a hospital in silence. I hold his hand as he gets patched up and I hold it as we ride back home in a taxi. Milo is sitting on the couch, holding onto something tight in her fingers. She stands as soon as she sees her father. He puts his hands up to tell her they’d talk later. I saw the look in her eye and she was crushed. After helping Tom get out of his clothes and getting him into bed, I met my daughter downstairs, she hadn’t moved from that spot on the couch. The one she plopped into after Tom dismissed her before she even had the chance to apologize. 

I don’t greet my daughter yet. Instead, I find myself in the kitchen, pulling out a beer and looking out into the yard, watching Mike play with Sasha in the pool. Mike had been a great assistant to the twins and he’s a great assistant to me when all these crap gets to be too much. I grip the neck of the bottle tightly in my fist, nearly breaking it. I hear footsteps coming up behind me and there’s a tear sullen Milo hovering in the archway of our kitchen. “Pop, c---can you t---tell daddy I’m sorry?”

“You can tell him when he wakes up,” I say without turning to face her fully. I keep my gaze out the window. Looking at the innocence that was my youngest daughter splashing her teacher with water because she wants to play and not learn anymore. Innocence. Something our family had lost. 

“Pop, I didn’t meant to hurt daddy. I swear….everything has just been so hard.”

“Milo, that’s what words and speaking to us is for,” I sigh. I can’t look at her right now. Not when she isn’t the sweet girl she grew to be before this monster took over again. This Milo was the Milo we got nearly a year ago. This isn’t the Milo that gave her little sister hugs and snuggled her close. This Milo hit a spiral. I put the bottle down and I can hear her sobbing.

“Poppy, can you just look at me, please?” I turn to my daughter and she’s in tears. Her curly hair is all over her head and in her face. I actually took in my daughter’s appearance finally. She is in all black with dark liner ringing her eyes. Yup, too much time with Bill. I noticed that in her hand are two folders. Both manilla. 

“What’s that?”

“My adoption papers. I found them on daddy’s desk. He uh, he was looking at them to see how to reverse it on his computer. Does daddy want to get rid of me?”

“No, he doesn’t. Milo….I told Mike to look into it.” The traumatized teen drops the folders and looks at me. I can see the betrayal in her eyes. I can see the way her arms shake slightly at her sides that she’s angry but mostly disappointed….and….remorseful.

“Why would you want me to go away?”

“Honey, it wasn’t like that. It’s just….look with everything that’s going on….the surgery….these weird ass hallucinations. The last thing Tom needs is….more stress.”

“So….does that mean….you don’t want me anymore?” She whimpers. I take a deep breath and sigh. I did not want to get rid of my daughter. I love her. There was too much happening. Too much going on. How am I to tell her that without making it seem like she’s at fault? I didn’t want to send anyone away. I just wanted things to go back to way they used to be. The way things used to be where our family could laugh and watch a movie. Where we could go to one of Milo’s games and then have dinner after? Nothing was the same and as I stand in the kitchen all I could see when I looked at my daughter was that my family is falling apart. That can’t happen...not again. 

“That’s not it at all, Milo.”

“Then what is it?!” She cries. I take the final swig of my beer and then looked at her with tears nearly falling from my eyes.

“I want things to be the way they used to. I want you to smile again. I am tired of watching you fight with Tom. I am tired of all the hospitals and most of all I am tired of pretending to be okay. Tom’s condition affects me mentally every time he has an attack. I try to act hard like it’s not hurting me but it is,” I admit, whimpers lacing my words.

“Why would you want me to go then?! I have nothing to do with that!”

“Milo, stress is a trigger! Don’t you understand?! Even if you aren’t having World War III with Tom, he’s still worried about you. In case you didn’t know, Tom is still angry that while you needed him he was cooped up in a hospital with tubes and shit attached to him….in a coma.”

“So then maybe he shouldn’t treat me like a baby! I don’t stress him out! I didn’t ask for any of this!”

“Miliani….I need you to listen to yourself. Your father does everything he can for you and your sister and this family. He worked himself to nearly the bone on our last record so he could be sure you’d have a roof over your head!” I scold, my tone darker than I expected. I just couldn’t listen to the words leaving her mouth. I love my baby. I love my whole family. But yet again...against my control…my family is falling apart. This time, though, it’s my fault. 

Why did I have Mike get those documents? Besides fear...more like relief. I don’t want to send Milo back...I just want her to be my baby girl again. I don’t like her like this. I don’t want her like this. What am I saying? I drop the beer bottle upon this scary realization. All I’ve done despite promising her I wouldn’t, is push her away. I pushed my away again. She needs her father and I am trying to send her somewhere else. Have I really been that absorbed into Tom? Dammit, I can’t do this again. Last time I got this self involved, I made myself sick. I walk over to my daughter and pull her into my arms. All I can say is sorry. Sorry for not being her father. Sorry for not listening to her. Sorry for focusing only on Tom and not on her. Sorry letting the pain hurt us again. No...not this time.

Not Again.


End file.
